


I Puzzle You

by nevertothethird



Category: Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Logan Impressed by Veronica's Everything, New Year's Eve, Puzzles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 00:56:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13260225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevertothethird/pseuds/nevertothethird
Summary: "We came, we saw, we puzzled."Logan attends Mac's New Year's Eve party and while it's definitely not a rager it has its charms. It also has puzzles. Of the mystery variety. And someone strangely good at solving them.





	I Puzzle You

**Author's Note:**

> This doesn't _technically_ fulfill any of the prompts but the VMHQ librarians said it was okay, so...
> 
> Spoilers for the _Grounds for Murder Classic Mystery Jigsaw Puzzle_.

If Lilly Kane could see him now.  
  
There was a time in Logan’s life when the question wasn’t _if_ he was going to attend a New Year’s Eve party but rather which one. Often he didn’t know until the night before, leaving the final choice to Lilly. He’d find himself on a plane and then – boom, ringing in the new year with friends in Vegas while listening to The Foo Fighters or, boom, a private VIP lounge at Beauty  & Essex in New York. While most years it was much ado about nothing, there was a piece of Logan that enjoyed the exclusiveness of it all. It was one of the only times of the year when he could throw his wealth around and have the response be “good for you, dude” as opposed to “fuck off, you rich elitist.” Not that he minded being called a rich elitist.  
  
Which brings him to now. Waiting to ring in 2018 in the, admittedly, charming apartment of one of his grad-school friends. When Mac had heard his NYE plans consisted of finally heeding her call to watch Jessica Jones and drinking scotch alone, she had demanded his presence at her small fete.  
  
“You can drink alone any night, Logan.”  
  
“But on New Year’s Eve I put the scotch in a fancy cup.”  
  
“Come to my place and drink my scotch.”  
  
“I’ve had your scotch. No thanks.”  
  
“Well, then come to my place and drink your own scotch.”  
  
“But what would --”  
  
“So help me god. If you fight me on this, I will hack into your student account and ruin you so hard they’ll likely take away your _college_ diploma on principle.”  
  
He might have known she absolutely wouldn’t do it – but when faced with the reality that someone cared enough to threaten the possibility, he found himself heaving a sigh in frustration. And agreeing. Which brings him to --  
  
“I got a new puzzle!” He’s met Parker, Mac’s roommate, a few times and always finds himself charmed by her unironic delight in – well – everything. But...puzzles?  
  
He receives a text from Lilly. She and several of her friends from the magazine are prefunking before night two of their NYE celebrations begins in earnest. This year the party is in Sydney, Australia, because why not be among the first in the world to say hello to 2018?  
  
\--------- **December 31, 2017** \---------  
  
_8:43 PM – Lilly to Logan  
Good news! My boobs look just as good in the new year. _  
  
The text is accompanied by a picture of Lilly mugging for the camera. Logan holds up his phone and snaps a quick picture of the crowd at Mac’s. Parker is shown clear as day dumping the puzzle pieces onto the dining room table.  
_  
8:45 PM – Logan to Lilly  
I mean...jealous?_  
  
He has to stop himself from laughing out loud when he reads Lilly’s response, mostly because he can hear the exact inflection of her voice.  
  
_8:46 PM – Lilly to Logan  
__Logan...is that...a puzzle?_  
  
He’s working on his response when he sees she’s already typing an additional text.  
  
_8:48 PM – Lilly to Logan  
The blonde in the corner with the best bitch face I’ve ever seen? Get on that._  
  
For a second he thinks she’s referring to Parker, but that description doesn’t quite jive. He looks at the photo briefly and then back to the corner that Lilly must have referred to and smiles. In the span of the five minutes between Logan taking the photo and Lilly commenting on said photo, Veronica Mars has schooled her features into a much more pleasant expression. He doesn’t know nearly as much about the woman as he’d like. And god knows it hasn’t been for a lack of trying.  
  
A relatively unremarkable day in the library is what introduced Mac (and by extension, Veronica) into Logan’s life. Well, unremarkable for him. Logan met Mac trying to avoid a discussion with an apparent one-night stand she never called back. Despite his initial impulse to sit back and enjoy the encounter, Logan was sympathetic to the woman as she stumbled answering the man’s repeated entreaties.  
  
“I mean,” the guy had said. “I thought we had a good time?”  
  
“Yeah. For sure. A good time. The greatest time. Charles Dickens might even say it was the best of times. But you see --”  
  
Logan stepped in, interrupted her stammering, and played the role of former ex-boyfriend reunited with his girl. The guy put it together – realized he must have been the rebound during a relationship break – and excused himself. Mac thanked Logan by buying the first round of beers. And somehow it became a thing – a mixed assortment of people gathered for drinks, Mac and Logan traded dating horror stories, rinse and repeat. It was at one of these events that he first met Veronica. His initial impression of Veronica was that she was sharply funny, reserved, and none too interested in getting to know him. Which, masochist that he was, made him all the more determined to get to know her. At their happy hour in October, he’d managed to make her laugh. And, yes, that might be setting the bar for personal achievement pathetically low, but he was pleased with the result.  
  
It’s a night in November, though, that Logan remembers most clearly. Veronica showed up just as Mac was getting ready to leave. Instead of leaving, as he expected her to, Veronica took Mac’s place, ordered a beer and mini corn dogs, and settled in. They hadn’t closed the bar down that night, but it’d been close. He’d texted her the next day but there wasn’t a response. He couldn’t find it in himself to be angry – sometimes it felt good to simply spend the night flirting and making eyes at someone – but he was a little disappointed.  
  
If Logan believed in such things as signs and fate, he would take Lilly’s singling out Veronica as a sign. Since he doesn’t, though, he merely sees it as an opportunity.  
  
As he approaches the table, he hears Parker’s attempt to recruit people to join her in the puzzle. “Come on, team. This is a good one. You have this little mystery story you read, and then you have to put together the puzzle and the clues to solve it are in the picture. Cool, right?” Veronica’s only response is to pretend even harder that she hasn’t heard Parker’s explanation and to take a sip of her drink.  
  
“Fine.” Parker huffs then reaches for her purse. She fishes out her wallet and removes two twenties from inside, slamming them on the table. “$20 buys you in. The first person who solves the mystery successfully gets the cash.”  
  
The added incentive garners a fair bit more interest. Quickly thereafter there are half a dozen people sorting out pieces, edges from middle, and starting to work. In addition to Mac and Parker there’s Parker’s boyfriend, a rumpled but well meaning guy whose name Logan actually thought was a joke, as well as Wallace, Veronica’s best-friend and Mac’s long suppressed crush. A couple of people who introduce themselves as Veronica’s undergrad sorority sisters linger by the table, occasionally leaning forward to try a piece, but don’t participate fully. Then there’s Veronica herself who is quietly sorting pieces and not paying him any --  
  
“If you think you’re entitled to the cash without doing any of the work, you have another thing coming to you.”  
  
Logan’s not sure who Veronica is talking to until she looks up at him from under her lashes while levelling him with a glare. So maybe she is paying him some attention. He smiles and takes another sip of his drink. Rather than dignify her accusation with a response, he drapes himself in a chair that puts him straight in her eye line.  
  
“Didn’t buy in,” he eventually explains. “Consider me an interested bystander.”  
  
“Yes,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Because puzzling requires a chaperone.”  
  
“My thoughts exactly.” He sips his drink again, enjoying her huff as she resumes sorting out pieces.  
  
The party happening around him is relatively tame, but upbeat. A group of people are in the living room playing Mario Kart, another congregates in the kitchen making batches of manhattans, sgroppinos, and gin and tonics for anyone who asks, and others are milling about, flitting from conversation to conversation.  
  
Logan does a drink run for the group, gets Mac more vegan cheese puffs, Parker a cookie, and sits down with the promised glass of scotch. He considers leaving the table, but then looks over at Veronica and catches her looking at him. The second their eyes meet she looks away, and a frisson of nervous energy zips up Logan’s spine. Perhaps he’ll stay exactly where he is.  
  
He tries to hide his smirk but from the rather loud annoyed huff from Veronica’s corner of the table, he doesn’t believe he succeeded. He intends to comment, but his phone vibrates and he realizes he never texted Lilly back.  
  
_9:28 PM – Lilly to Logan  
Does your silence mean you’ve listened to me?  
  
9:29 PM – Logan to Lilly  
__No comment._  
  
He lifts up his phone to take a picture of the puzzling in action. Really, he intends to tease Lilly with exactly how much of a boring existence he is leading.  
  
“Hey man, that’s not cool.”  
  
Logan freezes mid-picture and frowns at Parker’s boyfriend, Piz, who pushes his hair back from his face.  
  
“Excuse me?”  
  
“Taking a pic. It’s supposed to be a surprise. That’s part of the appeal.”  
  
“Okay. So?”  
  
“If you google the answer, you’re ruining the fun.”  
  
“Am I?”  
  
Piz appears frustrated by Logan’s response and looks to Parker for help. She shrugs, shaking her head affectionately at him. “He’s not doing anything, babe. It’s fine.” She kisses him on the cheek.  
  
“But you were excited and I just --”  
  
Parker cuts him off, tugging his hand so he looks at her. Looks like this is a bit of their dynamic: Piz gets worked up about something inconsequential and Parker finds it adorable and calms him down.  
  
“Thank you for defending me, but it’s okay. Logan’s good people. Right, Mac?”  
  
Mac nods from where she and Wallace are fighting over who has ownership over the burgundy pieces covered in lace, elbowing each other out of the way. “Huh?” Mac asks.  
  
“Logan,” Parker clarifies. “Good people, right?”  
  
Mac cheers as she yanks a piece out of Wallace’s hand, standing to hold it high above her head. “Totally. He’s the best.”  
  
Logan intends to preen at the compliment but Wallace clears his throat. A pointed “heh hem” directed at Mac who is still standing up, clutching the piece in her hand.  
  
“What?”  
  
Wallace clears his throat again.  
  
“Oh,” she says, smiling down at him. “But second to you, Wallace. Of course.”  
  
“Damn straight.” It’s Wallace’s turn to preen and maybe it’s the drink in Mac’s system, or maybe it’s the promise of a new year and all that brings but Mac sits down and kisses Wallace’s cheek.  
  
Logan’s not sure who’s more surprised by the action: Wallace or Mac. No one says anything for several seconds, an almost uncomfortable silence stretching out over the table as people poke the puzzle pieces back and forth. Mac and Wallace sneak furtive glances at one another. For some reason, Mac is still holding the puzzle piece in her hand while also trying to put more of the puzzle together.  
  
“For fuck’s sake,” Veronica mutters, looking at Wallace and Mac. She appears entertained but annoyed by the whole interaction. No one else seems to be paying attention as Veronica pokes at her phone, but they do when Wallace’s starts vibrating on the table. He frowns, looking at the phone and then to Veronica.  
  
She holds her phone up to her ear and gestures to his phone. “Answer it Wallace.”  
  
He does. “Hello?”  
  
“Hey, Wallace? It’s me Veronica. I’m sitting across the table from you?” She waves at Wallace and he rolls his eyes.  
  
“Yeah, I see you.”  
  
Logan smiles, reclining in his seat and taking another pull of his scotch. He can see exactly where this is going.  
  
“You know all those months ago when you told me you had a thing for Mac and I tried to convince you she returned your feelings but you refused to do anything about it?”  
  
Wallace is stopped silent, looking from Mac, whose cheeks are flaming from the apples outwards, to Veronica.  
  
“Yeah. Well, she just kissed you on the cheek and the two of you have been flirt puzzling for a solid 45 minutes, so I’m going to go ahead and reassert that Mac has a big fat crush on you. Okay? Talk soon.” Veronica hangs up her phone and looks back at the pieces she’s putting together, ignoring the panicked look Wallace aims her direction.  
  
“Well, okay then,” Parker says.  
  
Mac appears stunned and also like her brain has possibly short circuited. At one point Wallace looks to Logan, helplessly, and Logan shrugs.  
  
“I don’t know, dude,” Logan says. He reaches over and waves a hand in front of Mac’s face. “Mac are you --?”  
  
Mac snorts out a laugh and then she’s gone, practically doubled over in laughter, wiping tears from her eyes. “Oh my god,” she manages to breathe out. “We’re so fucking stupid.” She looks back up at Wallace who freezes, his eyes darting over every part of her face, doing his best to try and figure out what is going on. He must find the answer in Mac’s grin and shining eyes as he practically sags with relief.  
  
“We’re a little stupid.”  
  
“No,” Veronica interrupts. “Mac is right. You are so fucking stupid.” She gives a whoop as she clicks a piece into place. Logan might be in love.  
  
Wallace bumps his shoulder into Mac’s. “What do you say I solve this stupid puzzle, win the money, and take you out?”  
  
Mac angles her body towards him, bringing their chests close together. “What do you say I win the money and take _you_ out?”  
  
“Boo, hiss, save it for later,” Piz yells, throwing puzzle pieces at the two of them.  
  
Wallace looks affronted as another piece flies by his head, others at the table joining in. “Wait,” he says, looking at Piz. “Was that burgundy lace?!” He and Mac push their chairs back from the table in a sudden but simultaneous motion, diving to find the missing pieces. Mac is successful once again, and Wallace appears stunned as he gets out from under the table, rubbing his arm.  
  
“Did you seriously pinch me?”  
  
“Is that a typo?” Mac asks, pointing at the mess of pieces Piz assembled. “I thought the name of the coffee shop in the story was 'Spill the Beans' but that bag says 'Spill those Beans.'”  
  
Veronica looks over at the grouping of pieces, frowns, then back at her own pieces.  
  
“You’re right,” Parker says. “That is weird.”  
  
And Logan sees it, the way Veronica’s eyes flit from piece to piece. Of the 1,000 pieces, they’ve probably only assembled 300, but she’s clearly figuring something out. After another few minutes of people talking through the possibilities of the meaning of the coffee bag, Veronica slides another part of the completed puzzle into the open center space, away from where she’s been working on it. There’s a little self-satisfied smile on her face that she wipes away before speaking.  
  
“That looks like a luggage tag. I don’t know. Maybe it’s relevant?”  
  
She’s lying, or feigning ignorance. Logan doesn’t know why she’d do that, but he’s certain of it. She knows the luggage tag means something and is pretending it doesn’t. Maybe she’s planning to solve the puzzle when no one else expects her to? Try to build up suspense and get all the glory? As people come and go, some paying into the pot for the puzzle and staying to help, Logan continues to watch Veronica.  
  
It’s when she affects a confused expression and pointedly counts out loud, her head tilted and brow furrowed, that he knows for sure she’s up to something.    
  
“What is it, Veronica?” Wallace asks.  
  
“Just a little confused. The story said Rita bought six bags of coffee, but I count seven different bags. Another typo maybe?”  
  
“Unless the 'Spill those Beans' wasn’t a typo? Maybe it’s a clue!” Parker looks tremendously proud of herself, and Piz wraps an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close.  
  
“Get it, babe.”  
  
“Huh,” Veronica says. “Didn’t even think of that.”  
  
Logan smirks, leaning back in his chair as he watches her. “Really, Veronica? You didn’t even think of it?”  
  
She raises an eyebrow and leans back, mirroring him. “That’s what I said.”  
  
“Fascinating.”  
  
“Isn’t it though?”  
  
Logan beams at her, loving the almost predatory gleam in her eye. To Logan’s delight and admitted surprise, Veronica smiles back at him. It’s bright and clear and absolutely aimed in his direction for a couple seconds before she schools her expression and leans back over the table to poke a few pieces.  
  
It doesn’t take much longer for him to figure out precisely what she’s doing. She keeps assembling groups of four or five pieces and then finds ways to put them in the path of Mac or Wallace. Sometimes she just slides them out of her way and they catch Mac or Wallace’s eye. Other times she’ll push them away with a frustrated “where does this fit?!” Always the pieces are a perfect complement to a part of the puzzle Mac or Wallace is working on. She never outplays her hand or draws too much attention to herself. Logan knows, though. She’s already solved the mystery. She knows exactly what happened and could easily collect the pot for herself. Instead she’s leading Mac and Wallace to the correct conclusion and by extension the money.  
  
The clock ticks closer to midnight and the pile of pieces shrinks. He’d love to stand up and demand Veronica reveal the answer, but he’s more interested in finding out what her game is. It’s a frenzy of laughs and pushing hands out of the way to place the final thirty pieces or so.  
  
“Thank you, lord,” Wallace says, heaving himself back into his chair. “My ass is numb.”  
  
Logan looks at his phone. It’s understandable. They’ve been working on it for a solid three hours with people only getting up for occasional food breaks and cocktail refreshes.  
  
“We still have to solve the stupid thing,” Parker says, pouting and throwing herself back as well. “I have so many regrets. Why did I think doing a _mystery_ puzzle was a good idea?”  
  
Logan leans forward and grabs the stack of cash from in front of Parker, then counts the bills. “$220 says you made a good decision.”  
  
“Why would someone even put all this coffee in their luggage,” Veronica muses. “All you’re going to be able to smell is coffee for days.”  
  
“Right?” Wallace agrees. “Hand me the story? Maybe we missed something.”  
  
Logan has to stifle a laugh at Veronica’s irritated expression. He’s figured out the mystery by this point as well and if someone doesn’t solve it soon, Veronica’s going to punt whatever reason she has for feigning ignorance and take the cash for herself. He doesn’t blame her.  
  
“Takes me back to my high school days,” Logan says. “My buddy Dick used to keep a bag of coffee in his locker to confuse the dogs when they did locker searches.”  
  
Veronica in no way resembles a damsel, but it’s the least he can do to provide an assist. She widens her eyes and imperceptibly shakes her head a little. Okay, yes, his clue was a little leading the horse to water, but the stupid ass puzzle needs to be --  
  
“Oh god. I think I have it!” Wallace stands up, waving the story pamphlet in the air. He takes a closer look at the puzzle and nods along as he mumbles to himself. “I totally got it.”  
  
“Go for it, bff,” Veronica says.  
  
Wallace clears his throat, explaining that the jewels and bills of sales were a red herring. The seventh coffee bag wasn’t a typo, but a misprinted label made by the perpetrator. Inside that bag was cocaine, smuggled from South America, and the coffee was used to mask the scent as they smuggled it in the airport. He goes to open the perforated edge of the story pamphlet and Parker puts a hand out to stop him.  
  
“If you read that and you’re wrong, you’re dq’d,” she says.  
  
Logan looks over at Veronica and smiles. She looks torn between relief – _three fucking hours!_ – and excitement. The guy isn’t wrong.  
  
He rips open the page and reads the answer to himself, nodding along the entire time. “Hell yes, I did!” he shouts. The table applauds as he reads the full text of the answer aloud. There’s the acknowledgment that yeah, sure, he missed a few of the little details but he pieced together the vast majority of it.  
  
“I need a drink,” Veronica announces, standing up from the table. “Congrats, buddy. Good way to start the new year.”  
  
Wallace is beside himself as he looks at Mac, play fanning himself with the dollar bills. “I’ll say.”  
  
“I’m going to make Veronica make me a drink,” Logan says, also standing.  
  
“Good luck,” Mac warns. “She makes ‘em strong enough to knock you on your ass.”  
  
He keeps the innuendo in his head to himself, but he’s looking forward to the drink. And more of Veronica. If he’s not mistaken the interest he had in getting to know her isn’t as one-sided as he previously thought.  
  
“Don’t come back without a bottle of champagne to go around,” Parker calls after him.  
  
“Manhattan?” Veronica asks the moment he steps foot into the kitchen. Like she knew he would follow her.  
  
The kitchen has cleared, with the majority of guests spending the 20 minutes before the new year watching the recorded televised event from New York.  
  
“Please.” He leans on the counter serving as the makeshift bar, his elbows folded under him. It doesn’t give him a better vantage point but it does allow him to get that much closer to Veronica. “So what was the deal in there?”  
  
“We came, we saw, we puzzled.” She adds the whiskey, vermouth, and bitters into the cocktail shaker.  
  
“That’s not what I --”  
  
He doesn’t get to finish his statement as she chooses that moment to mix the liquor, the sound of the ice in the shaker drowning him out. “I’m sorry,” she says. “Can’t hear you.” She smiles, disarmingly innocent, and he narrows his eyes. He’s not fooled.  
  
Once she finishes pouring each of them a drink, he tries again. “You are far more puzzling than the one Wallace just solved.”  
  
“Bad pun and an even worse line.”  
  
“Or, should I say the one you solved but pretended not to.”  
  
“What are you implying?”  
  
“I’m more insinuating.”  
  
“Why would I --?”  
  
“That’s what I’d like to know.”  
  
“Maybe if you stopped interrupt --”  
  
“I have a theory.” She gestures for him to get on with it, picking up her drink to take a sip. “Um, not so fast.” Logan takes the glass right out of her hand.    
  
“Hey!”  
  
Now it’s his turn to ignore her. He reaches for an orange and a paring knife, peeling curls of fresh orange zest. He runs the orange peel curls around the edge of the glass and Veronica groans. Without even looking he knows she’s also rolling her eyes.  
  
“Does that even make a difference?”  
  
He hands her a drink. “You tell me.”  
  
The expression on her face as she takes a sip and the way she licks her lips tells him she thinks it does. But she’ll never admit it. “It’s fine,” she says.  
  
“A fresh maraschino cherries would really take it over the top.”  
  
“God. Don’t be that guy.” She presses off the counter, holding her drink tight, and makes eye contact as she walks by. He stops her from leaving the kitchen with a gentle press to her arm.  
  
“You never answered my question.”  
  
“Your question was vague.”  
  
“Well then, let me clarify. Why’d you play dumb in there?” He can see she’s debating with herself – unsure of exactly how honest she should be.  
  
She shrugs, affecting disinterest. “I didn’t.”  
  
For reasons he doesn’t entirely understand, he’s both a little disappointed she didn’t give an honest answer and impressed she’s maintaining the charade. “Come on, I won’t tell.”  
  
“Why do you care?”  
  
“Color me curious.”  
  
“Wallace is my best-friend. He’s been into Mac for a while and I wanted them to have a good date. That’s all.”  
  
“Then why not solve the mystery two hours ago then give him the cash in the name of the holiday spirit?”  
  
She smacks her forehead with her palm. “Gah! Must have been a blonde moment. Didn’t even think of that. I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” Veronica pats his chest in a conciliatory gesture, but she doesn’t walk away. In fact, she’s almost lingering in his space. He places his hand over hers, curling his fingers so they’re practically holding hands.  
  
“Liar,” he says, dipping his head down to whisper in her ear.  
  
“I’m not --”  
  
“You figured that puzzle out in the first hour. But you sat there for another two pretending you didn’t. I watched you.”  
  
“Creepy,” she says, flexing her fingers a little so their hands move further up his chest. Any closer and her hand will be over his heart. “It’s not a big deal.”  
  
“How’d you figure it out?”  
  
She rolls her eyes. “The South American Airways tag? A mystery writer who likely can’t sell novels so has to resort to writing the text of _mystery puzzles_? When all the men Rita met with were Latino it was obvious the answer involved the racist South American drug dealer trope.”  
  
He smiles down at her and she seems uncomfortable with the scrutiny. She doesn’t move away, though. She’s still holding her drink in one hand and they’re practically pressed together. A strange picture they must make, but Logan’s afraid to move and ruin whatever is happening.  
  
“What?” she asks, when his smile doesn’t fade.  
  
“You’re pretty great, Veronica Mars. You know that?” She shakes her head at the compliment. “You’ve tasted my manhattan. You know I have excellent taste.”  
  
“It was _my_ manhattan. You just did the twirly bit.”  
  
“The devil’s in the details.”  
  
She takes a sip of her drink and reaches behind him to place it on the kitchen counter. Her now freed up hand joins her other on his chest under the pretense of smoothing out the seams of his button down.  
  
If he smiles anymore tonight, they could drop _him_ from Times Square.  
  
“You really want to know?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
She swallows, her fingers drumming a short little rhythm on his chest. “The mystery stuff, problem solving, seeing holes in a story? It comes easy to me.” It’s not the greatest of revelations – he’s aware she’s getting her masters in journalism. “But, sometimes it irritates people. So in certain situations, I do a cost benefit analysis.”  
  
He frowns at her explanation. “I don’t get the sense that Mac or Wallace would care.”  
  
“They wouldn’t. If it had been just the three of us I might not have done it. But tonight, with people here I don’t really know, it seemed easier to choose normal.”  
  
Her fingers twitch and she grips his shirt before letting go and smoothing out some of the wrinkles she’s left. Logan takes a tiny step forward, literally, and then decides to take a slightly bigger one, figuratively. Some of her hair has come untucked from behind her headband, hanging in her face, and he tucks it back behind her ear, letting his fingers graze her jaw.  
  
“Veronica,” he says, and though the party is loud and lively, he lowers his voice. Wants these words to be heard only by her. “Fuck normal. You’re extraordinary. Be extraordinary.”  
  
She doesn’t answer with words, but she does slide a hand up his chest to drape over his shoulder. From the living room, the countdown starts.  
  
“10...9...8…”  
  
The hand over his shoulder moves up to play in his hair, teasing the nape of his neck. It takes all his self-control to keep his eyes open and his breathing steady.  
  
“Maybe that can be my new year’s resolution,” she muses.  
  
“Maybe.”  
  
The volume of the voices increase. “5...4...3…”  
  
“What’s yours this year?” she asks.  
  
“I don’t have --”  
  
He should expect it. They’ve been pressed together from knee to chest for the better part of the conversation. Still, it takes him by surprise when she rises up on her toes, simultaneously pulling him down to meet her. Their lips touch and it’s not fervor, and heat, and lust – there hasn’t been enough time to  build that anticipation – but it is soft, and tender, and lord he hopes the first of many.  
  
“God, this is such a cliché,” she says, blinking up at him. For a second he worries that cliché means regret. He just told her normal was overrated and that she should -- “But, also pretty extraordinary.”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
She nods. “Yeah. And I was just told I’m extraordinary, so…”  
  
He wraps his arms around her waist, intent on making the second kiss better than the first, but she stops him and takes a step away.  
  
“We’re about to get stampeded,” she explains. “In three, two…”  
  
She doesn’t even have the chance to say one. The kitchen is suddenly full of people coming to get refills as they chat about their philosophies on goal setting for the new year and when Uber surge pricing will end.  
  
“They you are, girl,” Wallace says, bounding into the room and wrapping Veronica up in a hug. “Happy new year!” He pulls back, frowning. “Did you miss the countdown?”  
  
Logan’s not really sure where to go. He could easily mix and mingle with the rest of the guests, but are they done? He and Veronica kiss for approximately three seconds, they hang out with their friends, and that’s that?  
  
“I wasn’t feeling well. Logan kept me company.” She peers around Wallace to make eye contact. “In fact, are you sure you’re okay to give me a ride home now? I don’t want to make you leave the party early.”  
  
Moments like these it’s worth thanking his parents for his acting genes. He doesn’t even need to work to school his expression into implacably neutral. “Not at all. I told my friend Lilly I’d swing by her after party so probably need to head out anyway.”  
  
He can tell by the slight crease of Veronica’s brow that she’s unsure if he’s playing along or if he actually has another party to go to. It’s a misunderstanding he’ll be happy to clarify. Once they leave.  
  
Their goodbye hugs and well-wishes are friendly yet efficient. Veronica waves off the chorus of “feel better soons” and recommendations to drink water and eat a banana before she goes to bed.  
  
“You’re okay to drive?” she asks once they’re outside.  
  
“I have never been more sober on a New Year’s Eve.”  
  
Maybe he should be embarrassed by the uncertainty he feels once they’re in the car. He thought they had a twinkly magic moment that one happy hour and then he didn’t hear from her. It’s possible she just wanted to leave and needed a ride. But then she kisses him, again. And, again, he’s not expecting it. At his surprised grunt, she smiles and pulls away, leaving him absolutely turned on and more than a little entranced. She knows it too, from the way she leans back in her seat, fiddles with his satellite radio station, and bats her eyes at him.  
  
“Take the long way home?”  
  
“I don’t even know where you live.”  
  
“Exactly.”  
  
He huffs out a laugh and shifts the car into drive. She reaches for his hand and he has to remind himself to keep his eyes on the road rather than watch as she traces the lines of his palm. “So,” she says, the car filled with music, and the anticipation of a new year, and the beginning of whatever the hell this is. “I’m extraordinary?”  
  
“Stop fishing,” he says. Veronica laughs and laces their fingers together, resting them on her thigh.  
  
As he drives she sings along to the radio. On multiple occasions she demands he pull the car over so she can offer her critique of specific Christmas light displays. She invites him into her apartment by looping her fingers into the waistband of his jeans and walking him backwards into her bedroom. She doesn’t miss a step and only needs to turn on a single living room light. He kisses her again, drawing it out with lips, and tongue. He whispers the words into her ear one last time. Because he can, and because they’re true.  
  
“You’re extraordinary, Veronica Mars.”

**Author's Note:**

> Three days late from being truly relevant, but what can you do? I have some very specific goals about the fics I want to post this year and it felt important to get it out there ASAP.
> 
> Also, please forgive any mistakes as this is unbeta'd.


End file.
